Heart and Mind
by Ashenfrost
Summary: She knew that coming back into Sherlock's life after ten years wasn't going to be easy, but she never thought that she would be on ground zero rebuilding her friendship with the consulting detective. (Starts up with the blind banker)
1. Prologue

"No" The young woman's piercing green eyes stared boredly into the furious brown of her headmaster.

"Excuse me?" His nasally voice grated against her ears in an unbelieving tone.

In order to appear more intimidating, subconsciously, the headmaster placed both hands firmly on the table. A sad attempt to appear bigger that his average frame actually was.

Sighing, the girl explained as though it were obvious "I see no need to apologize to a prat like Jameson."

"Young lady!" Headmaster Martin's eyes narrowed behind his glasses "Here at Queen Ethelburga's College, we do not go around punching our peers."

Turning her head so that she could lock eyes with Kyle Jameson, who sat in the wooden chair to the right of Adelaide. The young man was holding an ice pack on his cheek, and as their eyes met, he glowered over to the brunette. Her lips twitched upwards in satisfaction at the young man's pain. Adelaide turned back to the head master, whom frankly, she was tired of being forced to remain in his presence. She decided to end this conversation quickly.

"Headmaster Martin, bullying is against the code of conduct, is it not?" She asked.

"Of course, that is why you are in here." The man looked at her like she was stupid to even ask the question, which only was adding fuel to the burning fire she had felt since this morning.

"Then wouldn't you say that the constant insults that this twat over here makes towards Holmes can be classified as mental abuse which is, as you say, bullying?"

"I haven't heard of any-" Automatically the young woman cut the infuriating headmaster off.

"Do not take me for a fool headmaster," her words were becoming as heated as her veins felt, "I watch as you come into class to watch Professor Holbrook and pretend as though you do not hear Jameson and his lackeys make the crudest, and most foul comments to Sherlock. While you allow it to go on to get revenge, on a fourteen year old boy, may I add, all because Sherlock pointed out the obvious affair and infatuation that you are having with our professor."

"How dare y-" The headmaster nearly screamed in outrage.

"I will not be lectured when you are the one who is acting like a petulant child Professor Martin!" Again, the young woman cut him off. "I was simply reprimanding Jameson when he finally broke the camel's back."

Red with anger the professor glared over the table at the 14 year old girl, "And what exactly did he do?" he grit through his teeth.

The young girl turned her head once more to look at the smarted boy, but now her green eyes narrowing with disgust.

"He made Sherlock Holmes cry."

* * *

The wind that hit her once she was out of that damned office caused her to tug her royal blue jumper closer to her body. Adelaide Holt angrily marched out of the red brick building, knowing that she needed to calm down and become in control of her emotions once more. Her narrowed eyes quickly searched around the campus for an empty place where she would be able to clear her head. Finding a satisfactory area, she started making her way towards a more grassy part of the school yard. Becuse of her heated gait, it took mere moments to reach the predetermined place. Once she reached the cool, damp grass, she all but threw her book bag down and promptly laid on the ground next to it.

She closed her eyes, shutting out all of the pointless chatter from the peers passing by, and took several deep breaths, regaining control of her mind. After the passionate anger started abating, she allowed herself to go over her feelings and determine if they were appropriate or not.

"It's mostly anger," She mumbled to herself, eyes still closed. "which is completely normal." She cared deeply about Sherlock and it made her blood boil when someone continued to throw mental blows at him.

"I would have to agree with you on that." a familiar monotone voice sounded over her.

Startled out of her processing, Adelaide opened her eyes to see Mycroft above her, his calculating blue stare reading her over. She was accustomed, after 2 years of attending the college with them, to the piercing eyes of the Holmes boys. Due to the time together Adelaide was fairly adept at reading into their emotionas as well. While most would feel like Mycroft was cold and critical, she was able to see a warmth and the slightest amount of mirth in his blue eyes as he looked down on her.

Knowing that he wanted to talk, she patted the grass next to her. "Care to join me, Mycroft?" She offered.

He scoffed "And ruin my trousers?" He looked at the ground with a bit of disgust, then put on his false smile, "I think I'll have to pass."

Adelaide smirked "Yes, wouldn't want people to think you were actually outside enjoying yourself if they saw a spot of grass on you."

Nevertheless, knowing that her friend wanted to discuss the events of that morning, she pushed herself off the ground and dusted off her uniform. Mycroft had grabbed her book bag off the ground in the process.

"Cheers." She said taking her bag from the older boy. "All right?" She asked, having no problem staring straight into his eyes. At the age of 14, Adelaide was just slightly taller than most boys, being 5'8", but that would probably start changing within a couple of years.

Mycroft offered his arm to the younger girl, which she knew meant he wanted the conversation to be more on the private side. Obliging, she wrapped her slender fingers around his bicep,and they started walking away from the group of students that were walking about the grounds. She waited patiently for him to deem that his surroundings were satisfactory enough to begin talking.

"What is this I am hearing about a... row... occurring between a certain young lady and my brother's tormentors?"

"I am sure you already know what happened, Mycroft." Adelaide responded, still facing forward but a small smile made its way to her lips, knowingly.

"I would like to hear it from a more credible source." He offered bluntly, now walking them past all of the red brick buildings to a court yard.

Sighing, Adelaide began to recount the morning to her friend, "Jameson, the one who is constantly after Sherlock, had some how found out about Redbeard, probably because of some plans that they might have seen having to do with him. They started teasing him about it saying that they were astonished that he could care about something or that something could even care for him. They actually started to get a rise out of him so they pushed further, saying, 'Your dog is the only one who will ever love you, I wonder what would happen if suddenly it disappeared.'" Her eyes narrowed angrily and her grip on the boy's arm tightened as she recalled the situation, "And then they saw a tear fall and they started tearing into him, he was leaving right as I gave the arse a swift punch to the face."

A small upward twitch of Mycroft's lips, showing through the deepened frown due to the recounting, let Adelaide know he appreciated the justice she had dealt to the Jameson boy.

"Yes, I could see how Sherlock would be a bit emotional about it, Red Beard did pass away just over the weekend." Mycroft hummed, to which Adelaide was able to pick up a bit of sadness behind the disguise of boredom the boy usually had.

"I was able to assume that something happened. Sherlock is usually pretty good about just ignoring idiot or shutting them up by reading something off of them, so the act of this emotional outburst, well, outburst by Sherlock's standards, lead me to believe that something did happen to Red Beard." She said cocking her head slightly as she told her thoughts to her friend.

Mycroft looked over to the young woman on his arm through the corner of his vision for a brief moment. She was able to tell that he was pleased over the fact that he had intelligent company walking with him, and that she was ever observant of his brother. Slipping into silence which Adelaide knew was just Mycroft's way of appreciating her for what she had done. If he was upset he would usually inform her that her actions were childish.

The young man gazed at the sleek black watch on his wrist before his gaze turned to her, "Shall we go get him?"

She nodded, "Chemistry lab, or library?"

"With this incident, I think he will actually be in the gardens." Mycroft frowned. She immediately frowned as well, knowing that Sherlock would only ever go to the gardens when truly distraught.

Adelaide nodded stiffly and the teens both picked up their pace as they walked to the greenhouses. After about two minutes of a brisk pace, they were opening the door to the green house. The air was warm and moist with all of the flora and greenery. Adelaide's hand dropped from Mycroft's arm as the teenagers' gazes wept the massive plexi-glass building. Once her green eyes landed on a dark, lanky figure, starting at the varieties of plant life in the south corner of the building.

Again, Adelaide gripped Mycroft, who was still searching, by his arm, and lead him over to Sherlock. Once they reached the sulking boy, they stood in silence for a good minute or two, Adelaide just waiting for Sherlock to be ready to speak.

"How hard?" The boy asked quietly.

She smirked a little at the question, "He has a black eye."

"Suspended?" His blue eyes held a hint of worry as they met her for the first time since they arrived.

"No, I may have threatened that I had photographic evidence of 'The Martin and Holbrook scandal'"

Both of the young men in her presence couldn't help but make a small sound of amusement, or the actual grins the spread across their faces. Adelaide had always known what strings to pull to get the emotion and the reaction she wanted. It was easy to manipulate the Headmaster into letting her walk free. After another few moments of silence, and after she saw that Sherlock's smirk was gone she stepped closer to him.

"Can I?" Adelaide asked her friend.

Sherlock's blue eyes looked at the young woman, not calculating, but almost pleadingly. Taking his gaze as her answer she walked over to him and wrapped her slender arms around him. She didn't expect Sherlock to react, especially since his brother was there, but she just wanted to hug him to make him feel happy again.

After about 20 seconds, Adelaide let go, and Sherlock's eyes were no longer sad, they were back to the ever calculating gaze. Though Adelaide took note that she could see a spark of happiness in them.

"Right," Mycroft coughed awkwardly to what Adelaide could only assume was his discomfort with watching physical touch,"Are we off then?"

Both Sherlock and Adelaide looked to each other for a moment before they nodded in agreement, both walking over to the oldest of the bunch with eyes that contained mirht.

"He needs one too" Sherlock simply said sticking his hands in his coat pockets while looking at Adelaide.

She smirked "Of course he does, he's a fool if he thinks he wasn't getting one." Adelaide stated in agreement before turning to Mycroft. She wrapped her arms around the torso of the oldest Holmes boy before he could object.

She could practically hear Mycroft's grimace as he held his arms away from his body to avoid the contact, "Yes, great, do get off Adelaide."

"Sorry, you know the rule Mycroft." She grinned up at him, holding tighter. "It has to be twenty seconds. That's when the oxytocin is released."

"I am neither stressed nor upset." He informed her indignantly.

"Your finger nails would say otherwise" Sherlock tutted, "Bitten down almost to the bed, what will mummy say when she sees?"

Adelaide released Mycroft after, what she knew Mycroft considered agonizing, twenty seconds were up. As soon as she stepped back the two brothers engaged in the constant bickering that she was used to. Smiling, knowing everything was well again, she latched on to an arm of her friends, and they all walked back to the dining hall, together.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hey everyone! I hope if you are reading this story that you are enjoying it. Please please leave a review to let me know how I am doing. I will be honest and say that I find it very hard to write if I do not get feedback because I end up feeling that it is not adequate enough. So please review! Also, when I am changing the P.O.V. I will let you know through brackets [], otherwise it will mostly be told through Adelaide's point of view (third person). Hope you all like this chapter!**

* * *

 **[Mycroft]**

He sat in his plain, yet organized office, taking care to read through the meticulously placed documents. There was a sharp knock on the wooden door, shortly followed after by Anthea, opening the door allowing a gentleman in a suit to look in.

"Sir," Anthea started, Mycroft, who was still looking over the paperwork, simply hummed in response. "Mr. Carson is here to talk about the case information you requested."

At the news of that, Mycroft allowed himself to set the documents back down on his walnut wood desk, turning his calculating gaze instead, onto the man whom Anthea had let into his office. He was a plain man, nothing really spectacular about features or personality, but those were the type of people who Mycroft chose to discretely follow his younger brother around.

Anthea was back on her phone as she shut the door behind Mr. Carson, while said man was approaching Mycroft with yet another set of papers Mycroft would have to read through before the day was done. Once the gentleman arrived at his desk, Mycroft held out his hand for the documents, after which he received, he gestured for the man to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

All was quiet in the office as Mycroft Holmes' eyes scanned over the documents, focusing on the key points of his brother's recent escapades. After he had skimmed over who they thought was financing the cabbie, he set the papers down, turning his blue eyes to the man sitting across the desk.

"Are we sure he was behind it?" Mycroft asked intensely.

The man nodded, "As usual, he had no contact with the cabbie Mr. Holmes had interactions with, but we were able to... question...some of the individuals we have found he had worked through."

Humming in frustration, Mycroft set the papers down on his already paper filled desk. He closed his eyes brought his hands up, almost like praying, to his face, fingers resting just under his nose. He felt a headache coming on after receiving this. The two men sat in a tense silence while the man behind the British government assessed all of his options. He grimaced when he narrowed it down to one option. Dropping his hands, he opened his eyes and immediately started to gather the paperwork he would need from off of his desk. He kept trying to think of any other option that he might have had, but always it kept coming back to this one.

She is not going to like this.

Sighing Mycroft stood up, soon after, the man followed suit, waiting for orders. Mycroft donned his suit coat and grabbed his umbrella, then opened his office doors. He was ready to start calling out orders so that he could have everything prepared. There was no time to waste.

Not looking back to the man following him Mycroft simply ordered "Go back to surveying Sherlock, let me know when he gets his next case and any details along with that. Also, see if that land lady will free up her basement suite."

The man nodded and rushed off.

"Anthea, order the car to be pulled around."

"Would you like me to come with you?" The woman asked, never looking up from her phone.

"No, this is something I will be able to take care of myself." He paused from his walking as an idea struck his mind. He looked back to his trusted P.A. "Do we have any lady fingers?"

* * *

 **[Adelaide]**

Living in Dover was nice and quiet. Sure, there were plenty of tourists to see the cliffs, but over all the population was pretty small. It allowed Adelaide for a quiet life that after a few tumultuous years, she felt she needed.

It was a rare sunny day, and while the ocean breeze was picking her brown hair up, it was quite nice. She had just having gotten off of work at the local book shop, and had picked up some take out at the Red House Chinese restaurant, just a few blocks away from her home on Dour street.

The walk back to her flat while, was nice, was also uneventful. She avoided the clusters of tourists with ease and tuned out their chatter about the cliffs and all other unimportant details and gossip that they wished to talk about. Adelaide kept a steady pace and after a five minute's walk, was finally could see her little red door that let to number 54. The key hole was a tad rusted from the salty air that was constantly blowing against it, making it a bit of a challenge to lock and unlock each time.

After the normal struggle, the door finally opened and granted her entrance into her flat. Locking the door behind her, Adelaide walked into her front room, throwing her coat and keys onto the sofa, then she herself followed suit. She sat quietly, looking out her front window, while opening her box of take away. As always she processed her thoughts about today, which, as the usual answer came to, was boring. But boring was good. It meant that she wasn't becoming stressed out with life.

Not even halfway through her meal, Adelaide was brought out of her ponderings by a sharp rap on the door. Raising a questioning brow, she went to answer the door.

 **[Mycroft]**

The drive from London to Dover was nearly two hours. In that one hundred and twenty minutes, Mycroft Holmes planned over thirty ways in which to convince his visitee to come out of hiding. Some of which plans were more extreme and forceful, should she choose to be stubborn. Though he highly doubted she would be. Mycroft stopped planning when hi driver announced that they had pulled up on Dour street. The politician took notice of how the quaint, if even a little shabby, the neighborhood was. He knew for a certainty that she must be bored in this town.

"Wait here." He ordered the driver as he started climbing out of the back. The lukewarm, wet air, mixed with the smell of sea water hit the man as he left the comfort of his automobile. He sighed and straitened up his grey suit coat and firmed his grasp on his trusty black umbrella, then proceeded to march over to number 54.

Using the crook of his umbrella to knock on the chipping red door, he took the time to notice how much care the woman had taken into keeping the weeds at bay from the walkway to her door, very bored indeed. He heard light foots steps treading down a staircase, judging by the pace. A few more footsteps then he could hear the deadbolt unlocking on the door.

When the door gently opened, the familiar woman who was no older than 25, height about 5' 10", with mixed brown hair, and bright green eyes, stood there. Mycroft watched with a bit of humor as her eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed, not angrily, but in a calculating manner, before she addressed him.

"Mycroft." She smiled pleasantly at him.

He took this time to look over her. She had not gained any weight, suggesting that either she was active or that she was simply not eating as much due to too much thinking, which he assumed would be the latter on account of the fact that she did not look to be toned. Her brunette hair was the normal waviness when she did not do anything to it, she was not trying to impress anyone nor did she have any friends here that she care about. Her smile was preposterously big, letting him know that, she missed him, and she was also excited for his arrival.

"Adelaide, how are you?"

"Lady Fingers?" She smirked, cutting the pleasantries.

"They are your favorite if I recall." Mycroft responded pleasantly, pulling them out of his inner coat pocket before handing her the package of biscuits.

She smiled as she grabbed them and then moved out of the opening of the door to let the him into her small flat, which was unnecessarily tidy. After climbing up the stair case and moving into her front room, his old friend offered him to take the chair across from the sofa. To which he obliged, the taller man walked over and rested in the chair while the woman sat on the sofa, curling her legs up under her. Mycroft spun his umbrella in his hand, thinking about which plan he was going to take first. After a few moments he decided to be straight forward and not waste any time.

"Adelaide, it's time to come out. Mr. Redford has been incarcerated for over a year now, and there is no chance that he will be getting out." He explained, "and with no further reason to hide, I believe it is time for you to move back to London."

Frowning, Adelaide stared at her old friend, "Sorry, but I have a job and a life here Mycroft."

"I figured you would use your petty job as an excuse, so I have taken the liberty of helping you resign from the book store just last hour." He informed her, feeling bored about this topic.

"Mycroft Holmes!" Adelaide started scolding him, obviously offended that he had gone around her to quit her job.

"Dear Adelaide, if I can be quiet frank, I set this life up for you so that you could feel safe, now the time has come where you no longer need to hide away. It is quiet obvious as well that you are terribly bored, judging by the obscene cleanliness of your flat. The only reason you are opposing this is because you are afraid of what Sherlock will think. Which I can assure you, though he does not know now, he needs you to assist him."

Taking a moment to think about what he had said, Adelaide responded "First, I still do not appreciate quitting for me, second, Sherlock has no use of me. He has done well without me these past ten years, I am doubtful that he will need my assistance now."

Mycroft's lips tightened as he read through what she was trying to say, which was that she was scared to go back and face his younger brother after not seeing him for so long.

"My brother, while he may not like to admit it, does have compassion, and though it will take a while for you to get back in his good graces, I have complete faith that you will." He said in the kindest voice a Holmes could muster. Noticing that she was still hesitant he also let her in on another reason as to why she had to some. "It has to do with Moriarty."

Adelaide leaded back in her chair, Mycroft had emailed her what little information they had on Moriarty for her to psychoanalyze. She had informed him a little over a month ago that she was not able to pull much from the documents other than his psychopathic nature, and some of the ways he operates. Some of the information had been useful, in assisting them to finding some of the lackey's that Moriarty worked through.

He watched his friend as her green eyes looking around her flat while she was assessing the situation and how she felt.

"It is rather tidy in here, isn't it?" She mumbled, knowing now that she was needed.

"Perhaps even neater than mine." Agreed Mycroft while he stood up, pleased with the fact that there was not much argument on this point. "There is no need to pack your things, just grab your coat and we will be off."

"You already called the movers, didn't you?"

"They arrived just three minutes ago."

Chuckling, Adelaide stood up and walked over to Mycroft, hugging him around his torso. Mycroft, having grown used to this woman and her incessant, but charming need for physical touch, only hesitated a moment before hugging her as well.

"It's been a minute since I've last seen you." She said, still hugging the slightly taller man.

"About six months." He responded, letting go of the embrace as she did.

"Are we off?" She asked, grabbing her navy blue pea coat out of the closet.

Mycroft nodded, opening the door for her as they both walked out of the flat together.

"Did you know that I was coming to collect you? You seem unusually accepting of this." He questioned as the movers moved past them and into her house to start packing up her things.

"Well, I just was reading an fascinating blog about an, ' arrogant, imperious, pompous" flat mate that a Doctor John Watson recently acquired." She explained stepping into the car and sliding across the black leather seats to make room for him.

"Ah, I take it you read, 'A Study in Pink' then." Mycroft climbed in after her. "It really is a rather romanticized blog, but I guess that is to be expected from most people."

"Of course. Though the doctor seems to be a rather intelligent, thrill seeking individual. Which is good for your brother Anyways, when I read the name Moriarty, I figured I had about a week until you were at my door."

Mycroft frowned, pulling on the cuffs of his suit. "The faceless man, I take it that the psychoanalysis of our consulting criminal has not gone much further?"

Huffing Adelaide replied, "It's not as if I had much to go off of Mycroft, a name, the people that he works through, and a small number of cases we were able to track down. We don't even have a photograph. Right now all I can tell you about him is that he is clever, possibly just as clever as Sherlock, judging by the 'cases' he has taken, he is getting bored with untidy plans so he seems to be going after the psychopaths, because they are generally the more tidy and well thought out murderers, and just hiring the lower functioning sociopaths before he has them, I think as he would say, put down." She paused for a moment, taking a few seconds to process more information, "Now that Sherlock has heard the name, Moriarty, and it has been blogged, I have no doubt that said psychopath will be planning a game of wits against him, but seeing as how he needs to make sure everything is planned out, it may take anywhere from 3 to 5 months, depending on how anxious he gets."

"Which is why you will be moving into the flat just below brother dearest." Mycroft stated, surprising the woman, "Do not look so shocked Ms Holt, Sherlock may be intelligent when looking at evidence, but he does not understand the way people's minds work, which is why he will need you there when Moriarty decides to come around."

"In the flat below him?!" Adelaide started getting worked up "Mycroft! I haven't seen him in ten years and now you want me to just pop back into his life?!"

"Obviously," he said dully, pulling out his phone to make sure the arrangements were made, "It will make it easier for me to keep an eye on the both of you if you lived in the same vicinity."

"Oh thanks mum," She bit out, "I don't even have enough money to live in London!"

"All expenses will be paid for," Mycroft turned to give a slight smile to her before pulling a bank card out of his coat pocket. "The rent is taken care of, and this is for anything else that you might be needing... within limits of course." He eyed her seriously.

She looked at the card with a bit of fire in her green eyes "Are you making my job be to babysit your brother?"

"No, John Watson seems to be doing a good job of that. I am making your job be exactly what you've wanted, to be a criminal psychologist while working alongside an old friend."

She thought his word over for a moment before grabbing the card, "Just so you are aware, I will be purchasing whatever comes into my mind."

Sighing, Mycroft told the driver to take them to 221 baker street, after which the two fell into a companionable silence. Both thinking about what the outcome of Adelaide's arrival would be.

* * *

 **[John]**

"JOHN! HELP!" The doctor heard his flatmate shout as soon he opened the front door. Immediatly, the army veteran dropped the groceries on the floor, and rushed up to the shared flat, adrenaline coursing through him. He had pulled his gun out from the back of his trousers, ready to fire. He pushed open the door to the flat, John checked the area onlyto see Sherlock sprawled out on his arm chair staring up at the ceiling, looking almost lifeless.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" John asked walking towards the man cautiously.

Suddenly, Sherlock's head lifted up as he looked at the doctor.

"Of course I am not alright! I haven't had a case in ages! My mind is rotting!" The consulting detective dramatically proclaimed.

"Are you-" John shuffled angrily on his feet before pointing his finger at the man, "I thought you were dying Sherlock."

"My mind is." Sherlock said before turning to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Put your gun away John, we aren't in a war here."

"This is not a game!" John yelled. "I thought you were being attacked!"

"A game sounds lovely, what about cluedo?" Sherlock ignored the doctor, perking up in his seat.

"Oh boys!" Ms. Hudson called up from the bottom of the stairs, putting a pause on their argument, "Can you please pick up the shopping, our new renter will be here soon."

The men looked at each other puzzled before they both walked over to the door, looking down the staircase to their land lady.

"New renter?" John asked.

"Yes, she'll be here any minute. I told Sherlock hours ago." She replied before walking back into her flat.

"Hmm, I don't recall her coming up. Must have been while I was experimenting on the arm..." Sherlock muttered, looking down the stair case before trying to move back to his seat.

"Oh no you don't," John said, trying to ignore the fact that his flat mate conducts experiments while he is away, "Come help with the shopping."

Groaning but not resisting, Sherlock followed John down the stairs as they both began to pick up the groceries. Soon the argument started up again as Sherlock had made comments to John on how he needed to be entertained, and John arguing about how being bored does not classify as an emergency.

"I'm not some pet here to entertain you Sherlock! I won't just come running every time you are bored." He felt very heated as he waved a loaf of bread in his flatmates face. This had happened on more than one occasion over the last week without a case.

"You're too simple to really entertain me John," Sherlock responded.

John was ready to throw the bread at Sherlock before a voice sounded behind them.

"Now that's not very polite." A female voice broke between the argument as both men looked up to the woman who had opened the door and listened to their conversation a bit.

John did not recognize her, though she was very pretty. She was a bit on the tall side and her brown hair fell past her shoulders. Her green eyes stayed locked on Sherlock though as both men stood up from their original crouched position.

"Oh! Sorry, you must be the new renter, I'm John Watson," The doctor said a bit flustered holding out his hand to greet the woman.

She looked at him and smiled while grasping his hand "Adelaide Holt."

He watched as she turned to his flatmate, who, surprisingly, was giving her a cold stare that would put the way he looked at Agent Anderson to shame.

She opened her mouth to speak but was halted from doing so.

"Leave." He stopped her from uttering a word to him, then he promptly marched up the stairs leaving the doctor, the woman, and the shopping.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hello all! I believe in this chapter we shall start delving into the blind banker. I have read a quite a lot of other Sherlock fan-fictions and hope to bring something new to the table with this story. I have most of it outlined right now. Please do review and let me know how you are liking this story, it really would mean the world to me. As everyone else says, I do not own Sherlock. Enjoy!**

 **[Adelaide]**

After Sherlock had all but run away to his flat, Adelaide couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as she stared at the closed door of 221b. She had begun to process in her mind everything she had done wrong and if there was any way to fix it, when she felt a firm but kind grip on her shoulder. The touch helped her ground herself and come out of her worriment.

Not having to look over due to the smell of his familiar cologne, she had noted that Mycroft had entered the home (having been on the phone with the movers, directing them on how to organize her flat once they arrived). After a sigh and a brief squeeze on her shoulder, she felt his hand pull away and he started to march up the stairs to Sherlock, obviously going to demand that he come out.

Suddenly Adelaide felt at text from her phone in her pocket. Pulling it out to look at it she smiled, having a solution as to coax the stubborn man from his hiding place. She quickly typed a message back, shoved the phone in her pocket, then looked to who she assumed would have been doctor John Watson, and smiled cheerfully at his rather confused expression.

There had been some quiet chatter at the top of the staircase before Mycroft obviously became tired of putting up with his brothers antics.

"Would you stop acting like a petulant child and open the door?!"

"Resorting to uncreative insults this early Mycroft? My, your diet must be going horribly. Troubles with the queen?" an even toned Sherlock mused through the door.

Adelaide could practically feel Mycroft roll his eyes as he lifted his suit sleeve to look at the time.

"Sherlock, unlike you I do have important business to attend to and do not have time to waste on your silly little games-"

" Mycroft." Adelaide started, looking down at the new text she had received, " I don't really have time to meet with him anyways." She looked up at the older Holmes brother with a slight smirk. The study of minds had given her an amazing, yet dangerous advantage when she wanted something. Adelaide knew just how to manipulate a person to get what she needed. She knew Mycroft had understood this, and while she could tell it sometimes frightened him, it also intrigued him.

With a slight nod he let her know that he was going to play along with the psychologist, Mycroft responded, leaning on his trusted umbrella and quirking an eyebrow, "Oh? What is so pressing that you do not have time to catch up with an old friend?"

"Not friends!" Sherlock hollered through the door, causing every occupant, even John, to roll their eyes. It hurt Adelaide a bit to hear that he wouldn't even consider her a friend anymore, but she pressed forward, not falling into the guilt that Sherlock obviously wanted her to feel.

"I messaged the detective inspector that Dr. Watson here wrote about in his blog, truly fantastic by the way, keep it up." She looked over to the now standing doctor with a smile, "He said that he would like to meet with me and see if he could use my skills."

There was a loud bang on the other side of the door to 221b, followed by the door being thrown open. Adelaide couldn't help as her lips twitched upwards as Sherlock flew past Mycroft and headed right towards her. She kept a neutral expression on her face as her childhood friend bore down on her, standing toe to toe, with a cold fire burning in his blue eyes.

Another buzz from her phone sent Sherlock's hand to try to snatch it away from her. Adelaide easily stepped out of his range while she looked at the message, only infuriating Sherlock more. She could feel his ice cold eyes burning into her as she typed her response to Lestrade. She elected to ignore the fired up consulting detective, deciding that if he was to remain interested, he would have to believe that she really didn't care one way or the other about what he did to her.

As soon as Adelaide hit send, she allowed her green eyes to meet Sherlock's burning gaze. Looking uninterested and quite honestly bored of Sherlock's horrible temperament , she started to turn to the Doctor, who was looking as confused as ever, but Sherlock's long boney fingers wrapped around her left bicep and harshly stopped her movements. The force and intensity of the grip caused Adelaide to flinch the slightest bit, and Mycroft to give what could only be described as a warning cough to his little brother, who was too upset to pay any mind to.

Once more face to face, Sherlock's calculating gaze held none of the childhood kindness she once knew. He stared her down with bitterness, attempting to read as much information as he could off of her person. Adelaide could tell he was beginning to get frustrated as he was not turning up with much besides the obvious facts.

"Why are you here?" He asked after skimming her over.

She smiled, "Surely you might have guessed, I was bribed by lady fingers."

Rolling his eyes at her comment he moved on to the more pressing matter, "Why would Lestrade have a case for YOU, and not me?"

Adelaide shook his firm grip off of her arm and shrugged while turning to head out of the building.

"First, it isn't a case, it is a meeting." A smirk graced her lips, "But if I was to get a case it is probably because I am easier to work with seeing as how you can't stop acting like a child." Then she left the fuming consultant, confused doctor, and exasperated brother to themselves.

 **[John]**

After a minute of awkward and angry silence, John cleared his throat, "Who was that then?" He asked the brothers.

Silence was all that met his question. Becoming frustrated John looked down, putting his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels, trying to withhold the frustration from being left in the dark on what seemed to be a big deal to the Holmes brothers.

Mycroft sighed and shook his head while walking down the stairs. "You know she could have said much worse about your manners, brother mine."

John quirked an eyebrow while Sherlock's furrowed brows never changed as he stared out the door. As Mycroft came to stand next to them near the entryway, John saw the slightest of smirks on Mycroft's face. Well, he was pleased about something.

"That was miss Adelaide Holt, an old friend-"

"Not friends" Sherlock mumbled, still staring at the door.

"Of Sherlock's and mine" He ignored his brother.

John scoffed, "You guys have friends?" He found this humorous considering their coldness to the world.

"Yes, a story for another day," Mycroft stated while looking back down at his watch, "I brought her here to help with cases."

"No."

"What? How can she help?" John asked looking between the brothers, who, as usual, ignored him.

"Why not?" Mycroft asked.

"I do not need any help, least of all from someone as unreliable as her." Sherlock said, finally turning around to his brother. The only word that John could describe as Sherlock's reaction was absolutely childish. He had the pout of a kid who knew he was not going to get his way, but he was looking at his brother like he was not going to go down without a fight.

Mycroft put the point of his umbrella down on the ground holding it next to him, the sound of it coming on the ground gave off the air that he would not be argued with. How important was this woman? John wondered

"Since you are obviously blind to the facts right now, and I do not have time nor is it my duty to tell you everything about her and where she has been, I will leave you with this, she stays." With that, Mycroft left.

John looked over to Sherlock who seemed to be zoned out in his... what did he call it? Mind house? Mind Mansion? It didn't matter anyway, Sherlock was obviously out of it. John coughed and bent down to pick up the shopping again.

"Did you decide to take that missing diamond case?" John asked trying to turn the conversation to something else.

It seemed to work because Sherlock immediately came out of his slump.

"No, too boring," He stated and turned to look down at John and the shopping, "You might want to go pick up more beer."

"What? Why?" John asked puzzled. He had just bought some yesterday.

"I needed to see what temperature it would take to blow up the cans." He stated simply before taking the bags out of John's hands and walked up the stairs and into their flat.

John could not find words or even pick an emotion between upset, curious, and frustrated. So he just stood there opening and closing his mouth before he let out a noise of frustration. Sighing, he pulled on his coat again and left back to the shop, hoping that he had enough money on his card.

 **[Adelaide]**

Now that she was in the cab riding to the new Scotland Yard, Adelaide had time to think, and obviously most of her thoughts were about Sherlock.

She had left after they had turned 15. The circumstances of what caused her to leave, and everything that had happened after briefly tried to make an appearance in her thoughts before she (mentally) roughly shoved them back in the dark room in her mind that they have stayed lock up in for almost two years now.

She had let him down, they were in the middle of a project when she had taken off. Now that she had seen him again, she had seen true and genuine anger from him. Out of habit, it absolutely terrified her when she had first seen it. Now looking at it though, it didn't seem like he was just angry that she left. It seemed like he was angry because something happened when she left.

She didn't have much time to dwell on what could have happened to him because the cabbie had pulled up to the Yard. Paying the driver and then climbing out of the back, Adelaide walked past the black prism that introduced the fact that it was the New Scotland Yard, and passed through the doors into the glass and concrete building.

Adelaide didn't waste time with checking in, seeing as how there was a massive queue, and Lestrade already knew she was coming in at some point today. She briefly glanced at a directory telling her which floor the homicide department was on, before walking up to the second floor.

Once arriving, people began to look at her curiously as she made her way through the throngs of detectives. She glanced around the room until she saw a man who had several other people around him. She knew he must be Lestrade just by the way the other people in the room kept glancing at him to hear what he had to say.

He was grey, tired, but not from work, his ring finger (she noticed when he was gesturing with his hands) was redder than the others suggesting that he kept moving the ring around, obviously thinking about his wife, or what might soon be his ex wife.

With how many people were gathered around him and how many orders he was giving out, he either must be going on holiday or on an undercover case, away from the office. Seeing as how people were handing him files, it was the latter.

"Can I help you?" A male voice sounded from beside her.

Adelaide glanced over to the sound. A man, maybe one or two years older than herself, was standing next to her. He had rather greasy looking brown hair and blue eyes, which were apparently scanning her in a not so appropriate manner for a married man.

"Although I am sure you are wanting to help me in more ways than one, I can assure you I am in no need or want of assistance from you." Adelaide said, leaving the man looking dumbfounded as she walked over to the detective inspector.

"I should be back next week if everything goes according to plan," Lestrade was saying to Adelaide assumed was the sergeant that was helping him on the case. "Dimmock will be here tomorrow to work on any cases, I also wrote down everything he would need to know if he needs to work with Sherlock."

The woman rolled her eyes at the mention of the name and she was about to say something until her eyes landed on Adelaide, who was watching the scene from behind the D.I.

"Can we help you?" The woman asked, seeming a bit miffed that their conversation was interrupted.

Ignoring the bit of heat that the woman held in her voice, Adelaide stepped up to Greg Lestrade.

"Yes. I am Adelaide Holt, I assume you are the detective inspector I was messaging earlier?" She introduced herself, holding out her hand.

"Oh!" The man shuffled the files into his left hand so that he could shake hands with her as well. "Yeah, right, glad you could make it. Sorry, but I didn't know you had arrived." He said.

"Yeah, there was a long queue, so I just decided to head up here myself." Adelaide informed him.

"Well, right then, should we head into my office and have a chat?" He asked, gesturing towards an office door.

Following the man, they entered the room and Adelaide took the seat he offered her.

"So, you say that you want to work here?" Lestrade put his hands on the desk, looking like he was conducting an interview.

"Not so much be on the force as rather, being a psychoanalyst that comes when you run out of ideas." She smiled at him "Pretty much a more feeling, and more well behaved version of your consulting detective. By the way, the list you made for your replacement, needs to have "Do not get in power struggles with Sherlock, you will lose." on it." She said, pointing to the list of "If you need Sherlock" notes sitting off to the side on his desk.

The D.I. looked astonished and confused as to who Adelaide was. As if to prove that point he asked, "Sorry, but who are you and how do you know Sherlock?"

"I am Adelaide Holt, Sherlock and I have known each other for years, though, I am sure right now he would consider me an enemy, we used to get along fairly well."

"Why would I need another person like Sherlock?"

"Well, I am not necessarily like Sherlock, I am smart, but I tend to look more at human emotions and what drives people to do certain things while Sherlock tends to look more at the evidence and physical aspect of things. But while I do specialize in psychology I am fairly adept into looking at the physical evidence as well." Adelaide informed him.

He looked at her, trying to assess what to do. It was obvious that he knew two people to go to when they ran out of leads would be better than one, he was also trying to figure out how to prove that she was as good as she said.

After a minute of him thinking, Adelaide was starting to grow bored and so she threw out a suggestion. "Why don't you test me by handing me a file of the case you are going off to tomorrow?"

Looking surprised, Lestrade nodded and handed her the red folder containing all the information on the case he was heading off to. She started looking through the file as Lestrade started talking about it.

"Rafael Almanzar, 34, emigrate from Spain, believed to be a leader of a sex trade gang."

She paused from her reading "I thought you were strictly homicide?"

"We are," He informed her. "He kidnaps the children straight from their home-"

"Murdering the parents so no one will be looking for them." Adelaide finished, beginning to get into the mindset of Rafael.

"Right, so we have been tracking him all around and he tends to stick to the big cities. We also received intel saying that he is going to be in London this weekend."

"So, you're going to follow him around?" Adelaide asked a bit skeptically.

"Well, yeah." Lestrade said looking a bit offended that she was questioning him.

"Forgive me for questioning your plan, but wouldn't it be easier to lure him in, have him follow you, that way you have evidence as well as the fact that you will not be endangering other lives?"

"And how do you suggest I do that?" He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, looking at this file it seems that when he goes into the big cities he is only there for a day, so we can assume that he finishes his 'business trip' in one day. He would probably follow around a family for that day, meaning we could probably find him at a cinema or family restaurant scoping for vulnerable families. What I would recommend doing is borrow someone else's kids, probably two girls between 11 and 14, as well as a house. Then you would just pretend to be the perfect, naive family, out for the night. Let him follow you, then, at night find a way to get the children to safety and then arrest him as he comes into the home."

Lestrade just stared at her. She noted the impressed expression that he wore on his face. He obviously was wondering how she had thought of that in no more than four minutes of having the file.

"Yes, I am pretty good." She stated smugly, pulling the detective out of his staring.

"How would I be able to make sure he follows me?" He asked sitting forward now looking at her imploringly.

At this Adelaide smiled brightly, "Simple, you ask me to help you, nicely."

 **[Sherlock]**

Sebastian Wilkes, a former... classmate. Though Sherlock had more thoughts about him other than just peer, but he was letting it go because if what seemed to be a most interesting case.

Sherlock walked up to the receptionist's desk while John seemed to be staring around in wonder at the Shad Sanderson bank. He was obviously out of his comfort zone, being in a more professional building. Sherlock glanced at the receptionist and immediately found her to be susceptible to flirtatious moves, which would get him into the office on onto the case more quickly.

"Sherlock Holmes." He put on his false smile to the receptionist, pretending to give her a glance over. The woman behind the desk blushed, and hurriedly tried to assist him. It wasn't long after that John and him were being lead to Sebastian's office. Too easy.

 _'That was manipulative.'_ A female voice sounded in his head.

Frowning, Sherlock mentally told her to shut up. He decided to distract his mind by looking at all of the security around him, due to the fact that Sebastian had said there was a break in in the email he had read this morning.

Once being shown into the office, Sherlock furrowed his brow as Sebastian was not yet in. Nevertheless, he took this opportunity to glance around the office and figure out what his old class mate has been doing in the past month or so, all the while, John stood idly in the corner, obviously looking confused as to why they were there.

Sherlock was about to explain, but Sebastian had walked into the room, trying to play best friends with the consultant.

"Sherlock Holmes!" He smiled, shaking his hand.

"Sebastian." He replied coldly.

Dropping hands Sebastian continues with the falsehood of friendship. "Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

Failing to disguise his dislike for the man, Sherlock was practically scowling at him. In turn, the business man turned to John trying to get away from the scrutinizing gaze.

"This is my friend, John Watson." Sherlock gestured.

Sebastian could not contain his snort. "Friend?"

"Colleague." John corrected.

That caused Sherlock to frown, were they not friends?

 _'I will always be your friend.'_ The annoyingly cheerful voice called to him.

"Not friends." He muttered under his breath to her.

"What was that?" the other men asked him.

"Nothing." Sherlock falsely flashed a smile.

"Right," The banker nodded to some chairs, making his way to his own. "Grab a pew, need anything? Coffee, water?"

"No." John said while Sherlock shook his head. He just wanted to get down to business.

 _'Be patient'_ Her voice chided again.

Doing what he could to ignore her, Sherlock put his mind to what did what he does best; he went to work.


End file.
